Ramage and the drum beat

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The gale lasted three more days. Below deck there was hardly a dry place in the ship: months in the hot sun had dried out and shrunk planking and this, followed by the working of the hull in the heavy seas, provided plenty of places for the water constantly sluicing over the deck to seep below in dozens of regular drips. Hammocks and clothing became damp, then sodden; mildew grew fast, like an odorous green cancer, fed by the humidity. And hour after hour the Kathleen pitched into a head sea, slowly - agonizingly slowly as far as Ramage was concerned - fore-reaching to the north-east.

Finally on Friday morning the wind began to veer to the south-east and ease slightly. It could be the gale blowing itself out, but, as Southwick pointed out to Ramage, it could also be the warning that another gale - from the Atlantic this time - was approaching. Both men feared that one of the area's notorious south-easters would trap the Kathleen in the great gulf between Cape St. Vincent and the reefs of Cape Trafalgar. Hundreds of ships over the years had found themselves driven relentlessly into the gulf, unable to beat out against the wind to clear Cape St. Vincent on one tack or Cape Trafalgar on the other, and usually ending up wrecked on the low sandbanks between Huelva, at the mouth of the Rio Odiel (from which Colombus sailed in 1492 on his first voyage to Hispaniola) and San Lucar de Barrameda, at the mouth of the Rio Guadalquivir, from where Magellan sailed to circumnavigate the world in 1519. Those forty odd miles between the starting points for two of history's greatest voyages, Ramage realized, had seen the end of scores of others ...

An hour before noon the cloud began splitting up to reveal patches of blue sky, and with fifteen minutes in hand Southwick appeared on deck with his ancient quadrant.

Five minutes before noon a break in the sky allowed him to begin taking sights. Shortly after the bosun's mate rang eight bells, Ramage looked at him questioningly and Southwick said, 'Pretty sure of it, sir,' and went down to his cabin to work it out. A few minutes later, leaving the bosun's mate at the conn, Ramage joined him and as they crouched in the tiny, hot cabin, the Master pointed to the latitude he had calculated and at two crosses he'd marked on the damp and mildew-blotched chart.

'We're about here, sir - maybe a bit more to the west,' he said, a stubby forefinger confidently stabbing the southernmost cross, 'and there's the rendezvous.'

'Closer than I'd hoped.'

'Yes, sir, though there's this current setting south-eastwards, of course.'

'Very well Mr. Southwick, we'll alter course for the rendezvous.'

Two hours after dawn on Sunday the Kathleen was hove-to near the Victory, a minnow in the lee of a whale, and Ramage was on board, explaining to Captain Robert Calder, who was Captain of the Fleet, that he had urgent news for the admiral.

Calder demanded to know what it was before taking him to Sir John, but Ramage, with a mixture of stubbornness and pomposity, refused to divulge it, since Calder had no right to ask. Further argument was stopped by a young midshipman arriving to tell Calder the admiral wished to see Mr. Ramage in his cabin at once. Ramage hurried aft, hoping to leave Calder striding the flagship's well-scrubbed deck. Although this was the first time they'd met, he took an instant dislike to him.

The admiral's cabin was large and the canvas covering the deck, painted in large black-and-white squares, gave the impression it was a huge chess-board. Waiting with his back to the huge stern lights so his face was in shadow, Sir John stood in a familiar attitude, stooping slightly, his small head to one side and frowning, hands clasped behind his back, his eyes unwavering as he looked up.

'Well, Mr. Ramage, the last I heard from Gibraltar was that you'd surrendered your ship and were a prisoner in a Spanish jail.'

His face was impassive despite the bantering note in his voice, and before Ramage could answer he continued, 'You've met Captain Hallowell? He is on board as my guest. Ben, this is the young man I was telling you about, Ramage, the Earl of Blazey's son. He has a certain facility for interpreting orders to suit his own purpose - I had almost said "whim". So far he's also suited the purpose of his superior officers. I trust,' he added, turning to Ramage, 'that happy state of affairs will continue; though I've never met a gambler who died a rich man in his old age.'

Ramage recognized the significance of a warning from the man famous as the Navy's strictest (and fairest) disciplinarian; and although he tried to fix a smile on his face he knew he looked like an errant small boy facing his tutor.

'I hear you lost the fair Marchesa to the Apollo,' Sir John added, as if knowing his warning had struck home. 'Still, Captain Usher was an excellent host. And however cramped the Apollo, it was preferable to a Spanish prison cell...'

The old devil doesn't miss much, Ramage thought, and Calder walked into the cabin as he braced himself for the next shaft, but the admiral said conversationally as if to indicate there were no more rebukes to come (for the time being anyway), 'Well, what brings you here? Have you any news or dispatches for me?'

Ramage could not resist imitating the dry, even, unemotional way the admiral habitually spoke.

'News, sir. Admiral Cordoba had orders to sail from Cartagena with the Spanish Fleet by 1st February to make for Cadiz. He has twenty-seven sail of the line, thirty-four frigates and seventy transports.'

Hallowell jumped up from his chair with an exclamation of delight, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the beams, but Sir John remained impassive.

'You seem very positive, Ramage. How do you know?'

'I read Admiral Cordoba's orders from the Minister of Marine, sir.'

Because Ramage forgot Sir John knew nothing of his escape from Cartagena, he was startled by the effect of his bald answer.

Calder said immediately, without attempting to hide the sneer in his voice. 'Was it the Minister or the Admiral that showed them to you?'

Ramage ignored him, taking from his pocket the copy of the orders he had made in the gardener's hut, and his translation.

'You have a copy?' Sir John asked incredulously.

'Yes sir - this is the one I made from the original order to Admiral Cordoba, but I've also written a translation. I didn't have time to copy out all the polite phrases at the beginning and the end,' he added, handing the translation to Sir John, who opened it unhurriedly and read it through a couple of times before passing it to Calder.

'I've no idea what you were doing in Cartagena. When did you leave?'

'On the night of 30th January, sir.'

'Do you think the Fleet was able to sail by the first?'

'Yes, sir - it was as ready as any Spanish Fleet would ever be.'

'What did you do on leaving Cartagena?'

'I made for Gibraltar and arrived on the third. The Kathleen had been recaptured and was the only ship there and the Commissioner - he was the senior officer present, apart from the Governor - put me back in command of her with orders to look for you. We had a Levanter coming through the Strait and had to run before it, and then heave-to, so I was delayed making up for the rendezvous.'

Sir John nodded. 'Yes, we had trouble with that gale too. If it caught the Spaniards in the Strait, do you think they could have made up for Cadiz?'

'No, sir, definitely not.'

'You seem very certain, Ramage.'

'Yes, sir: it was one of the worst I've been in. Even allowing the Kathleen's only a cutter, I don't think anyone could have made up for Cadiz in that weather.'

'Hmmm,' growled Calder, 'how do you know this order' - he waved Ramage's translation, - 'isn't a forgery? Or a deliberate attempt to mislead us? I can't see the Spaniards leaving orders around just for you to read.'

Ramage, still puzzled by Calder's blatant hostility, glanced at Sir John, but the admiral's face was still impassive.

'I don't know, sir. It could be a forgery, or it could be a deliberate attempt to mislead us.' Ramage kept his voice flat, and he sensed Hallowell - who must be considerably junior to Calder - was also puzzled not so much by the questions but by the tone of the man's voice.

'But you don't believe it's either?' asked Sir John.

'No, sir. Admiral Cordoba has replaced Langara and was staying in a house in Cartagena. The order was taken from a locked drawer in his desk. He hadn't the slightest reason to suspect anyone would burgle his house. And since the orders aren't missing he still doesn't know anyone has seen them, let alone that you now have a copy.'

'Who burgled the house, then?' demanded Calder.

'One of my seamen.'

'Why didn't you?'

The implication and tone was so insulting that Ramage flushed, but Sir John gave a slight nod which told him to answer.

'It was a question of burgling Admiral Cordoba's house at night, and picking locks. The seaman was formerly a locksmith by trade and I gather an occasional burglar by choice. He preferred to work alone. It would have been too risky to light a candle to read through all the papers in the house, so I waited in a shed in the garden with a light, pen and paper...'

Sir John interrupted: 'Ramage, you've obviously a splendid tale to tell. It'll sound all the better at supper, so join us at five o'clock. Let me have a written report as soon as possible.'

Ramage was just turning to go when Sir John said: 'You have no news of Commodore Nelson?'

'No, sir. They were worried at Gibraltar.'

'Very well,' and then he said, almost to himself, 'I'll be glad when Nelson joins us. If the Dons run into his frigates and transports ... Calder, make a signal to the Britannia, Barfleur and Prince George - I've no doubt the rest of my admirals will also enjoy young Ramage's tale.'

As Ramage was rowed back to the Kathleen he realized that round the supper table, listening to the story of how Admiral Cordoba's house came to be burgled, would be Vice-Admiral Thompson, Vice-Admiral Waldegrave and Rear-Admiral Parker. None, as far as Ramage knew, had been connected in any way with his father's trial. Each might have private views, but none had joined in the vendetta. And that, he realized, was probably why Sir John in his shrewd way had invited him to supper: they were all powerful men in the Navy and likely to become more so - and they (and Sir John, too, for that matter!) would be able to form their own opinion of 'Old Blaze-away's' son. The supper or, rather, the way he behaved and spoke during it, could be a turning point in his career. And he was so tired he had as much chance of shining in such company as a mirror in a mine shaft.

The supper was a complete success, and as soon as the cloth was removed and the brandy poured, Sir John told Ramage he would buy La Providenciaas a dispatch vessel, and then insisted he began his tale by relating how he captured the dismasted Spanish frigate.

When Ramage described the explosion boat, Calder immediately interjected that it was a barbarous idea but was promptly squashed by Sir John, who pointed out that as far as the victims were concerned having the stern of their ship blown off by powder in a boat was far less dangerous to life and limb than having it blown off by the powder in the guns of a ship delivering a raking broadside.

The description of how Jackson produced a blank Protection and filled it in for Ramage's use led Sir John to comment, 'It's a pity the American Minister Plenipotentiary in London can't see that Protection. Have you still got it?'

Ramage had patted his pocket and Sir John said dryly, 'Keep it - might want it again one day!'

As soon as Stafford's rôle as the burglar had been related, Hallowell slapped the table and exclaimed, 'Well, Sir John, that man deserves to be appointed Locksmith-in-Ordinary to His Majesty's Fleet!'

'Lock-picker,' corrected Sir John. 'But I think we'll leave him with Mr. Ramage. If I had him on board the flagship I'd be forever worrying about the lock on my wine chest!'

When Ramage finished his story the Commander-in-Chief reached out and in a slow and deliberate move pushed aside the brandy glass on the table in front of hkn, and Ramage sensed his mood had changed.

'Tell me, Ramage, when you decided to tackle the dismasted Spanish frigate,' he said in a deceptively quiet voice 'did it occur to you that you were disobeying the Commodore's orders?'

'Yes, sir.'

'You mean it occurred to you before you did it, not after.'

'Yes, sir. Before.'

'It's becoming fashionable for a young officer to assume that if he disobeys orders and does something else, he gets promoted if he succeeds and court-martialled if he doesn't. That was what you were gambling on, eh?'

'No sir,' Ramage said frankly, 'because I didn't think I'd succeed.'

'Why try it, then? You don't need the prize money.'

Ramage, conscious the four admirals were watching him closely, knew it was no good lying. 'I still don't know why, sir. I think - well, the ship's company, the Marchesa, Count Pitti, they all took it for granted we'd do it.'

'Do you mean to sit there and tell me you let your ship be run by a woman and a bunch of ignorant seamen?' growled Sir John.

Hallowell said bluntly, 'With respect sir, I think it's to Ramage's credit that they had such faith in him.'

'Faith be damned, Ben; it only proves they're even more stupid than he is!'

'But Sir John,' said Admiral Waldegrave, 'surely it depends on the point of view. Ramage obtained this information. But one could argue that in using the American Protection, technically Ramage deserted from the King's Service and could be sentenced to death by the British under the Sixteenth Article of War. Yet at the same time if the Spaniards had discovered he was a British officer wearing seaman's clothes and carrying an American Protection while arranging for Cordoba's house to be burgled, surely they'd have shot him as a spy?'

'They could have and would have, my dear Waldegrave,' Sir John said grimly, 'and no one could blame them. But that has nothing to do with disobeying orders. Mr. Ramage was under orders to get the Marchesa to Gibraltar by the safest possible route.'

'But I was on that route, sir,' Ramage said hopefully. 'Perhaps the Commodore's orders were loosely worded,' Admiral Parker said.

The Commander-in-Chief glared round the table. ‘The first part of the Nineteenth Article of War lays down only one penalty - death. I'll trouble you gentlemen to recall the wording - "If any Person in or belonging to the Fleet shall make, or endeavour to make, any Mutinous Assembly, upon any pretence whatsoever...' It seems to me the whole bunch of you are making a mutinous assembly right in front of m' own eyes, on the pretext that young Ramage didn't disobey the wording of his orders! He simply disobeyed the spirit of them, which is worse.

'However, instead of making an order for his trial I'll give you a toast - gentleman, to young Ramage and his absurdly trusting ship's company!'

No sooner had they drunk to that than Captain Hallowell, who was a Canadian, said, 'And may I propose another - to his loyal band of temporary Americans!'